


The Lunar Festival

by navelblergh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Peter, Alternate Universe, Blackmail, Consent Issues, F/M, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mpreg, Pining, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navelblergh/pseuds/navelblergh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles didn't ask for any of this, but he had to play with the cards he was dealt. Stiles knew what was best for everyone and would protect everyone, even if it did mean giving in and sacrificing himself to Peter. Stiles already lost a part of his family and he wasn't going to lose the rest of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, no hate now, this is my first time writing a fic. Inexperienced writer at work who has problems with his feels! Many of the relationships above are either brief or fake. Main pairing is Stiles and Derek (sorry Scott and Stiles fans). I would appreciate feedback, partially because this is unbeta'd and I may need help coming up with ideas.
> 
> Everyone knows about werewolves.

It was nearing the end of August and fall had come a bit early that year. A man had just walked in through the front, smelling of booze. "Oh my God, I seriously thought you had died this time!" said the woman. He walked over to her, almost tripping over the rug twice.

"Sorry, _*hic*_ had a bad day at work today." It was half-past one.

"Well you could've called - you can't always assume that I know you're okay and expect me to just wait around until you come home to make dinner. You can find the chicken in the fridge," sighed the woman. She slowly got up, clutching her belly. She was in her final trimester, and was in no mood, _or in any condition for that matter_ , for this kind of excitement. She kissed him on the cheek, not taking any chances of having alcohol in her system. 

"Good night honey." His response in return, was a thud on the table and an ugly snore. Feeling too lazy to grab him a blanket, she piled the placemats on his head and shoulders. She giggled with how silly he looked. As she climbed up the stairs, she felt a slight kick. Then a sharp one. She sluggishly let her gaze fall down to her stomach, then to the floor. The floor was wet; her water had just broke. "Honey..."

_MmmmMmmMm_

" _Honeeey!_ " The man shot up like a bullet, with the placemats falling to the floor. 

~

 

"Dude, I don't know how comfortable I feel talking to your mom about this!" Stiles told Scott as he closed out from the browser.

"Well I don't wanna be looking at porn with my best friend! It's not even good porn!" They both burst into laughter at Scott's response. "Did you even find out who you... prepare?"

"I did, but I don't feel that comfortable talking about it with _you_ ," Stiles admitted, "I'd much rather talk to a qualified professional who has knowledge on sexual health, thank you very much."

"Oh come on Stiles, I'm your closest friend! Not to mention, your _lover_ ," he waggled his eyebrows as he reassured him. "Isn't it good enough talking to the son of a qualified professional? Besides, I just spent a good hour looking at terrible porn with you!" Scott said as he playfully hit Stiles shoulder and then left his hand there. He leaned in-

There was a knock on the door. "What are you boys doing in there?"

"Ahh - um, nothing dad!" Stiles quickly responded, almost falling off his chair and throwing Scott's hand violently off him. The sheriff opened the door.

"Scott, what time are you supposed to be home?" Mr. Stilinski questioned knowingly.

"Oh crap!" replied Scott, "My mom is going to kill me!" He ran out of the room and down the stairs. "Bye-" but his farewell was cut off by the slamming of the front door.

"What time is it anyways?" Stiles inquired.

"Time that we talk about... uh, you know," his father declared, as he gestured to all of Stiles.

"The way I dress? What's wrong with the way I dress? I'll admit though, probably should've washed these clothes before I wore them for the fourth time in a row." Stiles admitted as he sniffed the collar of his shirt

"No, and, gross. You know what I mean. I think we really should talk about this."

"I've talked it over with Scott, and I'm going to talk to his mom about it, you don't need to worry about it." Stiles told him. The sheriff walked over and grabbed Stiles out of his chair and into his arms.

"Good. I just want to make sure you're okay. I just wish that your mother was still around." His gaze fell out Stiles' window.

"I am, and I wish she was still here too. I also want to make sure you're okay, and don't think that I don't know about your secret cookie stash in your desk drawer." Stiles announced.

"I don't know what you mean," he said with a smirk.

~

Stiles slowly opened his eyes and rolled over. He looked up and thought he saw a dark figure. He dropped onto the floor through panic and glanced over his bed. No one there. "This is some weird Twilight shit going on," muttering to himself, thinking that it was even more Twilight shit that he has read all the books a month before. Rubbing the gunk from his eyes with one hand, and unbuttoning his pants with another, he groggily walked towards the bathroom.

After removing his pants and taking his shirt off from over his head, he neatly folded them on the edge of the sink. He pulled the shower curtain away and bent over to turn the faucet on. He ran his hand under the water. "AH!" Too hot. Then he tapped the handle. _Perfect_ , he thought with a devilish grin. He viciously pulls down his boxers when suddenly,

 ***KNOCK-KNOCK*** "Stiles, you have ten minutes until school starts!" shouted Sheriff Stilinski, "I won't be back until eleven, and stay out of trouble!"

 _CRAP_! Stiles thought to himself, _Sorry 'ole buddy, no happy times right now_! He hurriedly scrubbed his body and squeezed a bottle over his head. Quickly finishing his shower, he grabbed a towel from under the sink and wrapped it around himself. Rushing back to his room, he threw some clothes on and ran out the door to his jeep.

Stiles punched his keys into the ignition, and started pulling out of the driveway. There it was, the "Edward Cullen" in the rear-view mirror. Stiles nearly hit the mailbox as he turned around to find nothing but the postman draining a mailbox of all of its contents and replacing it with the mail he carried.

~

Lucky for Stiles, he ran right into his class just as the final bell rang. He turned the corner of a few desks and threw his bag under his desk behind Scott. "Hey," Scott whispered, not turning around, "did you do the math homework?"

"Yeah, here-" Stiles handed Scott his work.

"Uh, Stiles?" Scott asked. Stiles glanced over, puzzled, until-

"Passing notes in class McCall? Stilinski?" their teacher accused, "Hmm? Well, why don't I just," he ripped the paper from Scott's hands, "read it out loud to the class? Hmm?"

 _Crap! Crap, crap, crap_! Stiles finally realized why Scott was shocked. Stiles had doodled all of his paper- "Stiles heart Scott?" A few of the nastier kids started snickering, and then evolved into complete and utter shrieks of laughter. The rest of the kids sat quietly, turning as red as Stiles was. He drew in a breathe, and calmed himself. _So what, it's not like everyone doesn't already know that..._

It felt like an _eternity_ to Stiles, and he could only imagine how Scott must feel. The bell had finally rung for them, telling them to head to their next class. Stiles, still furious from the teacher's class reading, almost got out the door when suddenly- "Not so fast Stilinski!" his teacher called out. "Detention," he told him, as he wrote and signed on a yellow form. Tearing it out and handing it to Stiles, he said, "And don't forget about the assembly next period." _Assembly_? Stiles thought.

Stiles rushed through the halls, trying to avoid all contact from possible tormentors and get to class on time. "Well if it isn- OMMPF" A cute strawberry-blonde had just smacked the offender straight in his stomach. Stiles looked up at her, and she smiled. Well, at least his day hadn't been _all_ that bad. Or so he thought.

Stiles finally got to class. He didn't know anyone in his current class, but he was fine with that. He just needed to take a breather and make sure he didn't have a panic attack. "Hey, Stiles, right?" He looked around, until he spotted her. "Yeah, you are. I'm Lydia," she spoke with a smile. _Yeah, I know,_ he thought content with satisfaction. "Don't let them get to you, boys are just stupid," she winked. He noticed her soft curls bounce when she spoke. Her silver blazer complemented her nicely. She was even more visually appealing up close. 

After class had ended, he set aside his embarrassment. He mustered up the rest of his courage to ask Lydia, "What's the assembly about?"

Startled, she turned around and said, "Oh, feeling better?" He blushed. "I assume so," she continued, "I heard a few of the teachers talking in the lounge about some old tradition that they're trying to bring back," There was her smile again. So warm and radiant.

"Mind if I-" but before he could finish, Lydia locked her arms with his, leading him to the gymnasium, already knowing what he was going to say. He could probably get use to this kind of manhandling. Maybe Scott would be open to a polyamorous relationship. 

Once inside, she lead him up towards the front of the bleachers where he saw Jackson sitting, looking over at them. Welp, that idea quickly flew out the window. She sat down at the seat next to Jackson, pulling Stiles down on her left. Stiles saw Jackson grin, but Lydia quickly jabbed him in his rib cage. Stiles felt a little bit of pride in his new friend's protective behavior, knowing someone wasn't acting like a seven year old. He would have said something witty back, but was afraid what Lydia would do to _him_. But what he would let her do to him. Jackson glanced over, disgusted, at Stiles. Right, okay, calm down, don't get aroused. He'll smell it. And so would many others. Problem solved.

Stiles went to open his mouth, but then all the staff members immediately shushed everyone as a man in a drearily boring, pinstriped suit walked across the gymnasium to its center. He pulled out a grey handkerchief and briefly blew his nose into, before he cleared his throat. "Good afternoon, students," greeted the dull man. Stiles recognized him as the mayor - a very jumpy and shaky man. He remembered seeing him once at the police station, reporting his missing lawn gnome (the very one he and Scott had broken on one of their drunk binges). "Today, we celebrate the beginning of another lunar cycle-" he coughed, "and the beginning of a forgotten tradition," he wheezed. He quickly pulled out his handkerchief again to wipe the sweat beading down his brow. "Starting tonight, is the beginning of the lunar festival! Now, if you please, the head of city council!" hacked the mayor, as he handed the mic towards the other man he seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Thank you mayor," grinned the man. Stiles could of swore his eyes had been red a couple of seconds ago, but it might have seemed that way, because with Lydia's hair and all being up in his face (not that he minded). "The festival _truly_ begins on the night of the full moon. I hope to see everyone there," spoke the man vaguely. Stile was so fucking lost, until he realized as everyone started shuffling out of the gym, the city council members were handing out blue fliers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT CHANGES! If you haven't read this before the changes, good for you, no spoilers! (:


	2. Waxing Crescent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles heads to the hospital to have a well better explained chat Scott's mom about the Birds and the Bees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE CHANGES! I know it kind of takes out funny parts, but all for the sake of a better story!

Even though Stiles had befriended Lydia, he still felt pretty crappy. He had locked himself up in his room all weekend, and when Sunday morning had arrived, he decided he would man up and grab his life by the reins and be productive. 

Stiles slowly began rolling more into the covers, and sliding onto the floor with an _oof_. He shuffled towards the stairs, gliding on his socks. Ascending down the steps one at a time, Stiles called out, "Hello?" No reply. He expected that much. It had to be about eleven in the morning and his dad had probably left at around seven. On the last step, he jumped onto the rug, surfing towards the kitchen. Stiles had almost slipped when he jerked his head to double-check to see what was on the table. He pranced over to the bag and immediately fell flat on his face. He looked around to see if anyone saw him, even though no one was there. 

Laughing back tears, Stiles got up and grabbed the bag. There was note. Most of it was scribbled out, but what Stiles could make out read, _Stiles, for your... yeah._ He giggled. He opened the bag. He cackled. Stiles pulled out the a brochure. "Gay Sex 101" _Oh my God dad_. Hoping for another surprise, he peeked back into the bag. Cookies-and-Cream Hershey bars. _Score!_. Breaking off the pieces and popping them into his mouth (which melted deliciously on his tongue by the way), Stiles threw the box back onto the table and hopped back up the stairs.

Once Stiles reached the top, he sauntered off to the bathroom, pushing down his boxers as he made his way there. Today was going to be a good day. _With a one person happy ending_ , Stiles thought erotically. 

~

After his blissfully enlightening shower, Stiles went back to his room. Scavenging through the clothes in his drawers, Stiles threw on a decent looking outfit. Rushing down stairs, Stiles open the front door and headed out to his jeep. He still felt dreamily content after his shower. He wished he could feel like this all the time. Smirking, he turned on his radio and drove towards the McCall household. A friendly wave there, a joyous greeting there, and the one rude gesture given and returned to him by someone guy hogging the road. Today would definitely a good day.

Stiles pulled into the driveway. Stiles then quickly scooted off his seat and headed off to the door. Before Stiles could pull out his key, Scott's mom opened the door. "Oh! Hi Stiles," greeted Melissa. Looking at the key in his hand, she raised an eyebrow, "You have a-"

"Yeah."

"Alright then. Look, I'm sorry Stiles, I have stuff to do at the clinic, but you're welcome to come with me and we can talk there," she offered.

"Great!" Now Stiles will finally be educated the in ways of sex. In a penile-to-booty way.

Melissa unlocked her car and Stiles opened the passenger door. "Uh, Stiles?" she asked.

" _Hmm_?"

"Aren't you taking your jeep?"

"Nope, carpooling," assured Stiles while plopping down.

"How remarkably bold and conservative of you," she retorted with a smirk.

~

Then rain hitting the window sounded like pebbles. Okay, _huge_ pebbles, but Stiles didn't mind. They were actually quite soothing to him. Before they had gotten inside the doors, Stiles kept wishing for something that could distract him from the awkward conversation he thought he was about to have with Ms. McCall, but to his surprise, it wasn't awkward at all; in fact, Stiles thought it couldn't have gone any smoother. Well, okay, he did occasionally let out an, "Ew!" or a, "Doesn't that burn?!" He was just really glad that he felt comfortable talking about all of this and that she was more than happy to help. She was also glad too, because she didn't want her boys getting hurt.

It began pouring down harder. Lightning struck here and there. It was probably Thor telling him to finally go and see his movie that Stiles had been putting off. Stiles made a mental note to himself to do just that, because Asgard beckoned to him. Of course, he couldn't do that now, because it didn't seem like the rain was going to let up anytime soon. The flickering of the fluorescent lights were barely keeping him awake when suddenly, "Hey," Stiles quickly jolted up to see who it was. Scott.

"Uh, hi, um, I-" almost falling off the hard, plastic hospital chairs he used as a makeshift bed.

"Aw," Scott coughed out, "Hey. I was just dropping off dinner for my mom, I didn't think you'd be here." He smiled. Clearly just as embarrassed as he was. God did Stiles want to kiss his stupid mouth. His stupid face. _Come on Scott_ , Stiles thought, _use your stupid wolf instincts!_ He must have gotten the message, because Scott began leaning in closer to him, but before their lips could touch, Scott's mom just walked into the very same hallway that they were standing in.

"Scott, you're still here?" He backed away, blushing and scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah," Scott told her, "I would've left, but I was already on my way here when it began pouring hard, and there is no way I'm going back out in that rain."

" _Riiight_ ," she responded reassuringly. "Stiles, this is for you," she turned towards Stiles while simultaneously giving him a crisp, white paper bag with a pink medical sheet stapled to it.

"This-"

"Yep."

"For-"

"Mmmhm"

"Great, thanks."

"No problem Stiles."

"Okay, what?" Scott interjected. Scott may be a werewolf and all, but his instincts are obviously not as great as Stiles had presumed. Then, his eyes lit up. " _OOOOHH_!" Spoke too soon.

There was booming thunder and a quick flash of lightning. That's all that it took for all the electricity in the building and possible half of the town to go out. Stiles couldn't help but giggle. The awkward moment had arrived, and this was the stabilizer. His fits of giggles didn't last however, because seconds later, windows shattered letting in a gust of wind and rain. And the silhouette of man stood.

It came closer. The city council leader stepped over the shattered bits of glass. "Are all of you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Startled," Melissa sputtered out. There was a shard of glass sticking out her arm. Blood slowly dripped down her arm, circling the circumference of her wrist.

"Oh," spoke the man, "May I?"

"Thanks, but I _am_ a doctor," Ms. McCall answered as kind as she could, but even though she _was_ a doctor, that doesn't mean _she_ does well with pain. "If you'll excuse me," she gritted her teeth and sped away.

"Well, boys, I hope to see you at the lunar festival some time this week," he flashed a toothy grin, and then walked back outside over the glass.

"There are doors you know," Stiles muttered under his breath, and then turned to Scott, "How fucking weird."

"Yeah," Scott paused. A few seconds past when he finally said, "We should probably check on my mom."

"Yeah," Scott began to turn the corner when Stiles noticed he had dropped the bag. He bent over to pick it up when several of its contents spilled out from where the bag had been sliced. It was too dark for him to see what they were, but when he got closer, he squinted and had to double check to see if what they were were really what they were. Condoms. Oh look, something written on the back of the sheet. _Stiles, stay safe, Melissa_.

Scott came running back around the corner shouting, "Dude, my moms gone!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no's!
> 
> On the lighter side, Safe sex is hot sex. Unless it's fiction. Sweet, Sweet, friction in a fiction.


	3. The First Quarter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets Peter outside his house, finds out about Melissa, and even a little bit about his mother's past?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queue creeping and praying on Stiles

Stiles just stood there. Scott rushed over to Stiles, grabbing his shoulders and shaking furiously. "Stiles, my mom is _missing_!", Scott shouted, "We gotta call your dad!"

Stiles just flinched before he could speak. "Dude, you know they can't do anything about until-"

"I don't fucking care," Scott's claws began digging in deeper into Stiles' shoulders until they punctured the skin. "I'm gonna go find her myself then," so Scott then pulled out his bloodied claws and ran out the shattered window.

Stiles just shook his head. He laughed. He laughed until he began bawling into his fists. Stiles' was never all that good with coping with anything. Losing one mom is unbearable for anyone, but losing _another_ could drive a person to insanity. 

After he wiped his tear-stained face, he ran towards the front doors, reaching into his back pocket where- _FUCK_ ; Stiles had "carpooled" with Scott's mom. He turned back around, reaching into his other pocket to grab his phone.  He checked the time on his phone: 1:03 AM.

~

Running home in the rain was probably not one of his brightest ideas he's ever had. Stiles had awoke to what felt like a million nails being hammered into his skull. Sweat soaked the sheets. He tried to sit up, but immediately was pushed back down by a hand. "And what do you think you're doing?" came a groggily grumpy voice.

Stiles looked deliriously at his father. If Stiles could only see himself, he would say that his father was the one who looked wrecked; there were dark circles under his eyes, probably from staying up all night worrying about him. _Sorry dad, I would've called you, but I didn't have a signal, and I didn't have my jeep either, and I didn't want to disturb you, and did you know Scott's mom is missing_? He's bound to know this already by now, but that doesn't mean they get to skip the consequences to come.

He looked back up, dazed, at his father. He had already fallen back asleep in the chair. Stiles slowly got up, being careful not to fall and be as quietly as the floorboards would allow him too. A sharp snore caused Stiles to jump, thinking he had awaken. Slowly, he reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

Softly shutting the door behind him, he tiptoed down the hall towards the bathroom. Flipping the lights on only temporarily blinded him and caused only a brief moment of terror before he could see his reflection in the mirror. He definitely had his dad beat. He was paler than normal. His lips had been split down the middle and almost matched his skin tone but with a more violet tint. He began to discard his clothes. As he took his sweater off, he cursed under his breath. The blood-encrusted cloth pulled at the scab that had formed from where Scott had pierced his skin. Blood slowly began beading down his shoulders, then arms. Bruises covered his sickly pale body. He gently guided his fingers up his arm. It looked as though his fair skin had taken quite a fair beating. He pulled his socks off with his feet, then shoved his jeans off with a few tugs and kicks.

He then practically dragged himself towards the shower. Not even bothering to wait outside it, he stepped over into the tub and pushed the handle almost all the way over. The icy water quickly became hot. It stung at first, but slowly relieved his pain. It felt so welcoming, so inviting. He almost drifted off and gave in the shower but quickly perked himself up by lightly shaking his head. He stood there for a good hour or two before turning the shower off.

He slowly toweled off, being cautious not to press down to hard onto his sore body. Walking out of the bathroom, he made his way back towards his room. The chair his father had been sitting in was now empty. He plopped face down onto his bed. The breeze from his window made him shiver down to the bone. He got up to shut it, but noticed a man standing outside. He was looking directly at him. He waved and began walking towards the house.

Minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Stiles quickly got dressed, but not too quickly, and then leaned himself down the steps. Making his way towards the front door, he saw his phone in his jacket that his father must have put down here. Stiles flipped through his phone as he reached for the handle and then immediately glanced up as the man spoke. "Hello Stiles."

It was the city council leader. "Good morning Mr. Hale," he hoarsely greeted. He then remembered that Peter probably had just gotten an eyeful him, just moments ago.

"Please, call me Peter," he told Stiles. Mr. Hale's hair was slicked back like it normally is. He wore the same grey suit he had worn at the assembly. "Now, it has come to my attention that shortly after I left the clinic, Ms. McCall had been kidnapped?"

"Yeah," Stiles croaked. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Scott went looking for her and-" he paused, "Kidnapped?"

He smirk broke across his face, and slowly became toothy. "You aren't as dumb as I suspected you'd be," he told him as he leaned in closer, breaking his "normal" tone. "As long as you attend the Lunar Festival and do as I say, I promise you nothing will happen to Scott's _precious_ mother," Peter reassured him. He grabbed Stiles' chin and rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip, and Stiles quickly nipped hard at it. "Feisty, just like your mother."

"M-my mother? What do you know about my mother you beast!" he rasped.

There was a clicking noise. Stiles spun around as Peter released him from his grip. "I think you'd better leave before I bring you in for _sexually harassing_ my _underage_ son, and I don't think that will look too good in the papers, now would it?" The sheriff began descending down the steps, not lowering his gun for a second.

Peter left, but not before muttering into Stiles' ear, "Let's keep this as our little secret," and with a wink he walked away.

"Thanks dad, I-"

"Get to bed. Now," the sheriff commanded him as he put his gun down.

Stiles made a face, but agreed that'd be best. Passing his father on the steps, he dragged himself to his room. He opened his door to find Scott sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. "OhmyGod, Scott!" He rushed over towards him.

"I couldn't find her," he said angrily, "I couldn't find her Stiles, I couldn't find her." _That's because you won't_.

Stiles joined him on the bed, wrapping his hands around him, flinching only for a moment. "We'll find her, I-" he stopped himself. Scott grabbed Stiles' head and smashed his lips against Stiles'. It was passionate and angry. Scott leaned his head into Stile's neck. There was a deep inhale. "You smell different," Scott hissed, "Did you let him touch you?" His eyes glowed.

"Seriously Sco-" but Stiles was cut off by Scott putting his mouth against Stiles throat, gnawing furiously at it. "Wuh-wuh-why would I-," he moaned. Scott ran his hand up Stiles' shirt. "Sc-Scott, my dad is downstairs, we-" another moan escaped his lips.

"You're _mine_ Stiles, no one is allowed to touch you. I've marked you as _mine_ , and _mine_ alone." Scott ripped Stiles' shirt off and then pulled hurriedly at his pants.

"Scott, no," Stiles let out, as he pushed Scott away, "This has to stop. You've been acting different lately. My- our feelings towards each other, they-" Stiles was at a loss for words. He couldn't find it in himself to tell Scott that he's being acting more animalistic - more feral. More like a wolf. It scared him at times. Scott has never marked Stiles like _that_

"You're right," Scott agreed, and with that remark, Scott climbed out the window and left. Stiles didn't like pushing Scott away, but he had to protect Scott. Had to protect Scott's mom. _His_ mom.

~

Stiles was definitely in no shape to be at lacrosse practice, but he needed this to get out his frustration. Scott apparently needed it too, because he was practically destroying the net. Stiles felt a little sympathy towards the goalie, but when you aren't a werewolf on a sports team, you kind of have it coming.

"Bilinski, you and Whittemore are next!" barked Finstock.

 _You've_ got _to be kidding me_ , Stiles thought disappointingly to himself. They paced back to the goal, and Jackson took his place as the defender with the others. 

"Wooo! You can do it!" a girl shouted. Stiles turned his head to see who it was, only to get tackled by her werewolf boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry for this chapter being a bit shorter than the others, but I promise for a longer chapter next!!


	4. Waxing Gibbous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I probably won't upload again till winter break, so enjoy a longer chapter!

Jackson stood over Stiles. _Smug bastard_ , Stiles thought bitterly to himself.

"Come on Stiles, get back up!" Lydia yelled. A pretty girl cheering for Stiles? That's all it takes for Stiles to get back up and try again. Of course, only to end up in the same position thanks to Jackson. Jackson liked Lydia, and Jackson had to be a douche just because he got a little butt-hurt that _his_ name wasn't being cheered; so naturally, Stiles has to get butt-hurt too.

"That's it for today boys, and back to the benches next time Bilinski!" shouted an angrily disappointed Finstock. Whatever, Stiles had enough of Jackson pummeling him to the ground anyways. 

Stiles and the rest of the team then headed back to the locker room to collect there things and/or hit the showers. 

He began changing out of his jersey when he noticed that there was blood on the back of the collar. He reached back to touch his neck only to draw back in recoil slightly over the raw wound. He really must be just a 147 pound sack of meat if he's going to continue being tenderized and cut into slices.

As Stiles left the locker room and headed towards his jeep, Lydia came walking towards his direction with her douchebag accessory. "Hey Stiles," she called out.

"Er, hi Lydia," said the awkward teenager as they had gotten closer.

"Tch," commented the accessory.

Lydia gave her poorly chosen accessory a glare before turning back to Stiles. "Sorry to hear about you and Scott," the strawberry-blonde told him, "And his mom too." There was silence. "You were so out of his league anyways," breaking the silence she had created.

Her words stunned and impressed him at the same time. _Really, you think so? Have you met this babbling nerd that is called Stiles?_ Well, at least he felt a bit better. Until he saw Scott walking with the new girl. What was her name again? Oh, Allison Argent. _Of all people Scott, really? You have to go and snag yourself the daughter of a werewolf hunter? Not even a whole day after we... broke up?_ Not like they really had been going out, more of just making out a lot and the occasional happy times, but still.

"Ouch," Lydia paused. "Do you want to watch 'The Notebook' with us?"

Jackson just groaned at Stiles joining them. Or for having to watch "The Notebook". Or both.

"No thanks," replied Stiles, "I need to head home."

After they said their goodbyes, Stiles got into his jeep and headed home. He was exhausted. What would he do for dinner? Make salad? Cook some chicken? Perhaps head to that drive-thru that is coming up on his right? Yep, fast food it is. Fast food to numb his loneliness. And possibly clog his arteries. 

Scott has the right to date anyone he wants. Stiles couldn't help but feel bad for him though, with his mother missing - correction - kidnapped by freaking Peter Hale, city council leader. And he couldn't even tell Scott anything. "Would you like a shake with that this evening?"

_Damn straight I do lady._

~

"I'm hooo-" the sheriff and grabbed for the bag, but Stiles was too quick for him. "Uh-uh-uuhh," were the noises Stiles made as he shook his head and held the bag away from their bodies. 

"Stiles, what the hell is this," the sheriff barked in disbelief as Stiles handed him his food.

"That's a veggie wrap, and it's good for you! You're lucky I'm giving you fast food," Stiles told him, "You should be grateful."

"Grateful?! Stiles, this isn't fast food, this is just bread and a bunch of leaves rolled together!"

"I did get you some curly fries though-" Stiles opened the bag, then quickly scrunched the top. 

The sheriff opened the bag, "Come on Stiles!"

"I may have eaten them on the way here..." Stiles paused, "But you still love me because I'm your son right?"

"I would've loved those fries and a burger," his father teased. "How's Scott doing?" he finally asked.

"Okay, I guess. Obviously still, you know, about his mom being ki-missing."

"Kissing?"

"I said missing, didn't I?"

"Alright... go on?"

"I saw him with a girl today."

"... I'm sorry Stiles."

"No, I'm okay. It was just puppy love, I guess. Literally." He cracked a smile, which was contagious and got to his dad.

"Well, as long as you're alright," he told him as he wrapped him into a hug. 

"Okay, you can let go now, you're kind of crushing me," which only led to the sheriff squeezing him tighter. "Okay, seriously dad, I'm about to spew your fries all over your shirt," but the sheriff didn't let go, and in fact, he had gone stiff. "Dad?"

His dad gave him a quick _shush_. 

"Wha-"

"Quiet Stiles!" he whispered loudly. His arms dropped.

Stiles turned to see a woman who was possibly snooping around their house. He banged on the kitchen window. The woman jumped at the noise he had just created. He motioned towards the door. 

~

Last night's encounter was... mundane? Nothing abnormal or too particularly exciting. Apparently, the woman from last night turned out to be the aunt of Scott's new love interest. She seemed nice enough. Her excuse for appearing in front of their house was that she was out looking for her friend's three puppies who had lost their way. Stiles hoped Kate would find them soon. 

~

Stiles was just freaking out, and not taking his Adderall wasn't helping. The Lunar Festival's Finale was only two days away. Thinking about what Peter said made him shiver. _Feisty, just like your mother_. Had he some how known his mother, or even, _ew_ , been some how romantically-involved with the creep? Wouldn't that have made him Bella's child, marked to be with an almost lover of her mother? 

But that wasn't the only thing freaking him out. Ever since he arrived at school, Jackson, of all people, was getting a little too close for comfort. "Jackson, you're scaring him, and me a bit too," Lydia said trailing off, examining Stiles as if he had grown an extra head and she couldn't find it.

"He just, smells," Jackson paused, "Not stupid."

"Great word choice there wolf boy," Stiles mocked as he pushed Jackson away, "but you can't smell 'stupid'."

"Maybe you can't," he muttered to himself as Lydia herded him away. She glance back over her shoulder apologizing for Jackson. Stiles couldn't help but giggle a little when she swiftly grabbed his ear and pulled him around the corner.

"He's right though," a voice called out from behind him in a seductive manner. 

"Okay, first off, my GPA-" arms were jerked roughly as he was forced up against a locker.

"He means you smell like sex," she corrected. 

"Well, yeah, y'know, teenage boy with raging hormones..." Who is definitely not following your blonde curls dipping into your cleavage that's being pushed up by your leather jacket.

"Erica, play nice, you're making him think out loud," came another voice. This time, it was male. Teasing.

"Oh Isaac, you know you wanna whiff too," she told the other boy as she took in a deep inhale. Her eyes glowed a bright golden color as her grip tightened on him. 

Isaac went to take a step closer, but was hesitant when he heard a forced cough from around the corner. Erica quickly loosened and released her grip on Stiles. They then both walked towards the source of the cough.

"You're lucky Boyd follows orders," she told Stiles. 

"And that he'll go easy on you..." Isaac added shortly after.

~

Werewolves. Freaking. Werewolves. We couldn't he just attract a nice, normal girl (or guy) who wouldn't shove Stiles against hard surfaces (meaning walls and shit, because he was totally down with being shoved against a nice body, that totally wouldn't suffocate him, and I guess was down with his kinky ways). Stiles just couldn't have a normal life. Not like he wanted a normal life exactly, but one pretty close to it would do.

Stiles had to focus. Stiles needed to drive his Jeep to Dr. Deaton's to see if he could make any sense of what just happened to him before he gets jumped by another group of sex-(or heat-) crazed people. 

Stiles pulled up into one of the only small parking spaces in front of the Animal Hospital. At least Scott wasn't do in for work today, because Stiles didn't think he could handle seeing (they're still best friends right?) him after just being almost molested. 

He pushed open the door, almost hitting a person as they brushed past him, and was immediately greeted by Dr. Deaton expectantly like always. "How's it going Stiles?"

"Besides having my leg humped by every werewolf in town, I'm just fine and dandy! How 'bout you?"

Deaton remained unphased. "I'm fine, thank you for asking Stiles," he said as he cleared his recently used counter, shuffling jars and equipment in his gloved hands and placing them on assorted shelves.

Stiles shook his head in disbelief. "Uh, hello? Werewolves? Humping human? Stiles? As in me? Even ones that don't even like me, _hate_ me I should say."

Deaton just sighed as he took his gloves off and disposing them in the metal trashcan with a clank as it shut. "I heard you the first time Stiles," he assured him, "Just sense you've dated Scott, I assumed that you already knew why. Don't get me wrong, I don't think it's appropriate nor do I think moral. But I do believe that you'll be fine. I doubt they were actually 'humping' you Stiles," Stiles snorted, as if he had insulted him, "I don't believe that'd actually harm you, especially since you're dating Scott."

There was an awkward silence. It took Deaton only a few moments to recall that Stiles and Scott weren't a "thing" anymore. So Stiles just sighed, waiting for an explanation.

Deaton quietly apologized beore continuing. "Stiles, there's a full moon coming up, and with you all being hormonal, add being a werewolf on top of it, and you get sexually frustrated and confused teenagers."

"But what if not all everyone was... technically a tee..." Stiles stopped himself.

Deaton looked a little more concerned now. "What do you mean, 'not technically a teenager'?"

"Well, I might of, sort of, gotten, harassed, by said non-technical-teen." "Who may or may not have had a thing for my mom," he then muttered after.

"Stiles, this isn't sound good. You're not getting yourself into trouble now are you?"

"Oh yeah," Stiles quickly added sarcastically, "I attend werewolf orgies every Thursday and Saturday night."

"Stiles, if you want me to help you, I'm going to have to ask you to not get short with me," Deaton told him politely.

"Yeah, sorry, 'Doc, it's just," Stiles took a moment to recollect his thoughts, " I may have also gone through my dad's police records and found out that they did have a thing, and he was kind crazy in love with her, like crazy I'll stalk you for years without you knowing because you won't love me, and then she found out and got freaked out, like a normal _sane_ person would be, and got him arrested. And now he got his files expunged, clean slate, never happened, and then he totally has the hots for her kid. Who is Stiles. Who is me. And he's a werewolf. Like, adult and experienced. Experienced as in a wolf sense." He stood there awkwardly.

"I-" At a loss for words. He paced only for several seconds before suggesting, "Maybe there's a possibility of you being eligible as a mate..."

"Why would he want," gestured to himself," all of this, well, I guess I can't blame him, but besides the fact, he already has a mate."

"Maybe it isn't official."

"I'm quite sure it is. Oh, and did I forget to mention, that not only was everyone who pretty much doesn't normally like me, nor can stand me, feel attracted to me, that all got their wolfiness factor going on, and were acting a little more than just, 'sexually frustrated'?"

"..." Deaton just shook his head. "I guess I'm going to have to get back to you on this one this time Stiles," he told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the hate towards the Twilight series. It's mostly just because some of the scenarios fit perfectly with what I'm writing - the the creepy factor I might add.
> 
> Dr. Deaton is on the case!
> 
> (And wow! Lots of parenthesis!)


	5. The Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stiles, have you ever heard of Maternal Impressioning?"  
> *(Chapter in Progress)*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it's been awhile, but last Friday my dog died, and I cried for three days straight. On top of that, I have more finals coming up, and I've only taken two of about eight.
> 
> So, I'm giving you a small piece of what I have written for Chapter 5. I probably won't be writing until winter break like I said before. :/

It has been about two days since Stiles last heard from Deaton. News, any news at all, would be good right about now. The Lunar Festival would be in full swing tonight as the moon becomes completely full and reaches its highest peak.

Stiles wasn't really quite sure what to do; it seemed as though many people weren't out today. Probably preparing for the festivities that were about to happen. So, Stiles thought he might help too, and it would probably give him an opportunity to come up with a plan before tonight.

There was an occasional, "Hello," and a, "There's work to be done!" tossed around frantically as Stiles got closer to the woods at the edge of town. There were people raking paths, setting up stalls, and tables sitting at the center with to-do lists and refreshments. Alas, every time Stiles offered to help, he was quickly shooed away. _Fine, I didn't want to help you anyways._

~

Stiles paced back and forth between the short paths to all the stalls. The sun began to set, and the knot in Stiles stomach began growing, making him feel awful, like he was going to throw up. As the nausea rose, so did the ringing in his pocket. Frantically, Stiles shoved his hand in his pocket to grab his phone. "It's about time!"

"I had no idea that it was that urgently important to you Stiles," Deaton told him in an almost quizzical manner.

"Er, it's not," he quickly spat out. Well, it is, but Deaton doesn't need to know that. "Just 'ya know, Lunar Festival and all, werewolves, and and Stiles! They don't exactly mix that well..."

"I'm sorry Stiles, but what I think has been going on, may beg to differ."

"What?"

"Stiles, have you ever heard of Maternal Impressioning?"

"Like, an influence a mom has on her child?"

"Yes, but in a more deeper manner. You see Stiles, from what I've read, when a mother is pregnant, she most be cautious to not feel stressed so she doesn't harm the child-"

"Yeah-"

"Well, like you said, Maternal Impressions are the influence a mother has on her child," he paused, "But it happens when the child is in the womb. When a pregnant woman becomes stressed, she can harm the baby, and is probably the likely causes of birth defects and disorders-"

"So that's why I have ADD?" Stiles asked, cutting in.

"Yes, but there's more. You had told me earlier in the week that Peter was once romantically involved with your mother?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Deaton started to sound more concerned and puzzled, just as Stiles was, "I had gotten permission to look at Peter's and your mother's Police and Medical records. Stiles, Peter had followed your mother all over the country," he told him, "Peter also had several accounts of attempted physical abuse, and more of emotional abuse," he added.

"Yeah, I already know Peter's a nut-job, and your telling me that he's the reason I can't sit still?"

"Correct, but there's more. Stiles," he swallowed, "Peter caused the stress on your mother that made an impression on you-"

"Great, so this is some Twilight crap!"

"This isn't a laughing matter," Deaton said gravely. The sun had gone down, and moon began to reveal itself even more.

"Do you hear me laughing? Just spit it out already!" 

"Stiles, your mother left the impression of werewolf on you, giving the aspects of a wolf-"

"Your not making any sense! Maternal Impressioning is just a bunch of folklore! Hokum!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep; that's it so far.


End file.
